


Blood, guts, and chocolate cake

by seventhstrike



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Gen, Mostly Dialogue, Sam-Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstrike/pseuds/seventhstrike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisa discovers a box full of items with photos of her and Ben and a man she's never met before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood, guts, and chocolate cake

“I hate to say it, Lisa, but don’t you think that this new boyfriend—that—he’s kind of, you know, like…” The woman begins to fidget, preferring to stare at her own hands than her friends inquiring face.

“No,” Lisa replies, folding her arms across her chest and leaning to one side, “I don’t know, like.” She says the last word with enough sarcasm to make Alexis flinch.

“I mean, he’s kind of like—like you’re just going back. I mean, you’re not even rebounding, you’re like photocopying,” she explains. Then she realizes how stupid it sounds and rolls her eyes.

“Okay, now I’m confused. Who do you think Adrian is like? What, you think he’s like Matt?”

“No, no—Lisa, I don’t think he’s like Matt. Matt was a good guy. I liked him,” she adds with a small smile. “You really don’t remember? Or are you just pretending?” This time, she frowns.

“Remember what?”

“Before Dr. Sexy and all of that up-and-down crap with Dean. Adrian is just like Dean. I thought you’d gotten away from the bad boy ‘I’m tough, but with a heart of gold and eyes only for you’ bullshit. I mean, Lisa, Adrian drives a GTO and Dean had that old Impala. You don’t think that you’re taking everything Dean was and just finding someone else who’s exactly like him?” By now, Alexis has been steadily growing bolder. She doesn’t even know if it’s a GTO, but it’s a big fucking car and she sometimes calls it the boat. That aside, everything about Adrian, save for the fact that he’s Puerto Rican, makes him exactly like Dean: he’s got this weird crap in his past from when he used to run with a bad crowd, he loves Ben, he’s got a toughass demeanor but is actually incredibly sweet with Lisa, but has a wisecracking attitude and nothing more than a grade eleven education.

Alexis knew that Lisa hadn’t taken Matt’s death very well, but this was a bit much. Matt had been killed in the most bizarre home invasion she’d ever heard of and then Lisa got into a car accident. Alexis had always thought that Lisa had been too emotional to drive and ended up getting hurt but that didn’t explain why she was pretending Dean didn’t exist.

“I never saw anyone named Dean, Alexis, and Adrian drives an old Pinto, so that’s totally different,” she replies, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah? And how do you know that? You hate cars, Lisa, and I know you: if it weren’t for Ben, you’d be living downtown with a bicycle. You don’t know the first thing about cars.” Lisa rolls her eyes. Obviously Alexis knows even less about cars because the Pontiac GTO she thought Adrian drove would be called a classic muscle car, whereas the crappy Ford Pinto he uses is barely a car at all. It’s a three-door hatchback for god’s sake! Even if she isn’t sure why she knows any of this, she doesn’t think it matters.

“Are we seriously arguing about cars? You’re saying I had a relationship with a guy I’ve never even heard of and now my new boyfriend, who is amazing by the way, is apparently just like this mystery man? This is some kind of stupid joke.”

“Just come with me then. If you won’t believe me, maybe you’ll believe yourself.” Alexis reaches out and snatches Lisa’s hand and starts to walk away. She has to stop suddenly when she realizes that Lisa isn’t moving. “Seriously, Lisa? Come on,” she says, and pulls again. This time, Lisa complies.

Alexis walks through the living room and heads toward the stairs. They climb the stairs slowly, mostly because Lisa is too busy giving her a scathing ‘I hate you so much right now’ face, which is really slowing her down. Alexis drags her into her bedroom and Lisa looks around.

“My bedroom,” she intones.

“Just wait,” Alexis replies. She walks over to Lisa’s massive walk-in closet and pulls out a small trunk. She climbs up on it and then starts pulling things down from the top shelf. It takes her a few minutes, but eventually, she finds the box (blue, from some craft sale) and brings it over to the bed.

Lisa immediately launches into full denial mode: “What’s that? How do you know about it? Who put it there? It isn’t mine.” Alexis ignores her and removes the lid. Inside there are photos, phone numbers, movie ticket stubs, small trinkets, and even a necklace. She pushes the box farther into the middle of the bed and sits down, pulling out a stack of photos, all of which are of Dean or any combination of Dean and other people, and mutely hands them to Lisa.

Lisa turns the photos over, one by one, to read the backs. Each says the same name: ‘Dean and Lisa, Red Sox game’; ‘Dean and Ben working on the car’; ‘Dean and Lisa, Jennifer’s 30th birthday’. She finds one photo, which isn’t like the rest. It’s unlike the others where she remembers everyone in the photos: she still sees Jennifer every month for drinks and there are plenty with Ben. But there is one photo with an incredibly tall man and Dean. On the back, all it says is: ‘Dean and Sam.’

Confused, Lisa turns to Alexis. “I don’t remember him.” She pauses, and then adds: “I don’t remember Dean or Sam.” This time, it’s Alexis’ turn to look confused. Lisa holds out the last photo of Dean and Sam, which Alexis takes. She frowns.

“I never met this Sam guy, but—he must be related to Dean somehow.” She pauses and then asks: “You really don’t remember him? You two moved in here together a few years ago and then suddenly, he was just gone. You never talked about him after that and it was just, over. Dean used to come over to my house every so often to help Henry with the car and for our barbeques.”

“I don’t remember him. I remember the barbeques and the move and—everything, but not him. Not either of these two men.” Lisa frowns as she stares at the photo: Dean and Sam. “Do you think—is it amnesia from the car crash?”

“No, I don’t think that you can just forget one person. It’s like he’s been cut out of your memory completely. It’s not natural, Lisa.” At this, Lisa gives Alexis a sad look.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Alexis replies. “Do you think that it’s still maybe connected to the car crash? Or—Matt’s death? Do you remember him at all?” She holds out the photo and Lisa examines it again.

“The car crash,” she says. Her voice comes out choked, almost a whisper. “He was there. After I woke up, he said that he was the one who hit me. Oh my god! Do you think he tried to kill me? Is that why I can’t remember anything? What about those movies with people who lose their memories? Can you just give them some kind of poison and they just forget?” Now Lisa’s speaking more quickly and her hands are starting to shake. She begins to paw through the box and discards all of the small knickknacks. She tosses aside drawings and mementos and a necklace with a pentagram with flames around it. Alexis reaches out and snatches Lisa’s hands before she can go she-hulk on them and rip everything to shreds.

“Wait, he said that he hit you? Lisa, it was a one-car collision. There wasn’t anyone else. Whatever he was doing, he lied to you. You hit a pothole and then drove into a power line.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she replies, dazed. “So why would he say that? All he did was—” Lisa’s eyes widen, “apologize.” Alexis gives her a confused look. “He knew. This memory thing, he knew. Or maybe he didn’t, but he knows something. I need to find him.”

“Do you have his phone number?” Alexis asks. She realizes that she is still holding Lisa’s hand and lets go.

“I don’t know,” Lisa says. “It’s probably in here, isn’t it?” Alexis nods.

They begin sorting through the box, dividing the contents in half and putting aside anything that doesn’t have a number scribbled on it. When they’re done, they have a pile of snippets of paper with phone numbers. After staring at the pile for a few moments, Lisa stands up and plucks her home phone from beside her bed. She sits back down and looks at the numbers apprehensively.

“Hey,” Alexis says quietly, reaching out with one hand. She lays it on top of Lisa’s and strokes her knuckles. Lisa looks down and smiles when she sees the contrast between her skin and Alexis’. Hers is perfect, smooth, and dark while Lisa’s is pale and dry. Seeing something familiar gives her the courage to go ahead.

“Okay,” she says. She picks up the first scrap of paper and dials the number. She puts it on speakerphone, apprehensively waiting for Dean to pick up. The dull ‘Out of Service’ tone sounds. She tries again, but the second, third, and fourth have also been cut off; but when she dials the fifth, she gets a voicemail message.

“This is Dean’s other, other, cell. If you have this number, you know what to do.” Lisa hangs up. Alexis looks at Lisa.

“Other, other cell? Who is this guy?” Alexis makes a rude noise and then rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Lisa replies. Alexis looks guilty for a second.

“Here, try this one,” she says. She hands Lisa a piece of paper, with what she recognizes as a Kansas area code.

She dials and gets another voicemail: “This is Dean. If this is an emergency, call Sam at 820-326-6565.”

Lisa and Alexis look at each other.

“That’s the big guy,” Alexis supplies. Lisa nods. “Well, try it!” Alexis says. She looks like she’s ready to snatch the phone from Lisa’s hands. Lisa dials the number.

“Hello.” Lisa panics and throws the phone at Alexis, who catches it and volleys it back. Lisa fumbles with the phone and then holds it away from herself, as if she can’t bear to touch it. “Hey, if this is Garth, man, you gotta stop pocket dialing me,” the voice continues.

“Umm,” Lisa says.

“Becky?” the voice shouts. “How did you get this number? Did Chuck give you this? I am so not talking to you. I’m hanging up, Becky.”

“Wait! Sam this is Lisa,” Lisa says in a rush. There is a long pause. “Hello? Sam?” Still nothing.

Then: “Lisa.” There is so much regret in his voice that Lisa doesn’t know what to do.

“Umm,” Lisa tries again. “I—Alexis says that I knew you, Dean, and maybe you. I found these pictures and—what’s going on?” Sam swears. Lisa flinches.

“Where are you? I’ll come find you.”

“213 Weinbach Ave, Battle Creek, Michigan,” Lisa replies in a rush.

“I’ll be there in four hours.” He hangs up. Lisa and Alexis look at each other.

“What… what now?” Lisa asks. Alexis hesitates, but then replies in a rush.

“I can stay if you want. Henry’s picking up the kids from lacrosse and Nadege isn’t due back to my house until tomorrow and I’ll stay if you want me to.”

“Yes, please, stay,” Lisa replies. She gives her friend a small smile. Alexis indulges her and smiles in response. They stay on the bed with the mementos of a life forgotten scattered around. Lisa begins to pick them up and put them back in the box, one by one. Alexis helps and returns her stack of papers to the box as well. Once they’re done, Lisa picks up the box, stands up, and moves to leave. “Well, we’ve got four hours to kill. Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Alexis replies. “What will take our minds off this for four hours?”

“Desperate Housewives marathon?” Lisa suggests. Alexis rolls her eyes. “I know you think it’s tacky, overdone, and insulting, but what else can we zone out to for four hours?”

“Toddlers in Tiaras?” Alexis suggests, grinning.

“Oh god no,” Lisa wails.

“Fine,” Alexis replies. “Die Hard marathon?”

“That’s more like it!” They head downstairs and Lisa puts the box on a table near the front door. Alexis goes into the kitchen to make popcorn while Lisa sets up the DVD player with the first Die Hard movie.

Partway through Die Hard 2, Lisa hears a knock at the door. Alexis is in the bathroom, so she has to get it. Stealing her courage, she sets her pop can aside and stands up. She feels a bit hyped-up now that she’s shared three bags of popcorn with Alexis and is on her second can of Pepsi. It’s the most junk food she’s eaten in months and it’s all been compacted into a small, four-hour period. She walks to the door and is careful to tread silently, not wanting to give herself away. She stands up on the tips of her toes to look through the spyhole. She sees the big guy, Sam, but no Dean. She also sees a black Impala parked on the road. She takes a deep breath and then unlocks and opens the door.

“Lisa,” he says. Lisa nods.

“Sam, right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he replies. She opens the door wider to let him in and he steps across the threshold. He pauses and kicks at her rug for a second, but then abandons the action as he moves to take off his jacket. “So, what’s this about?” he asks, but then winces. It sounds as though he knows exactly what it’s about. His eyebrows are drawn together and he has a pitiful kicked-dog expression. In sum, he looks guilty as hell.

It’s then that Lisa hears the sound of a toilet being flushed and running water. They wait and Alexis emerges from the bathroom. She glances at Sam and her eyes widen.

“You are really, really tall,” she tells him.

“Yeah, I know,” he replies. He looks uncomfortable.

“Come into the kitchen,” Lisa suggests. Since Alexis is the closest, she leads the way. As they walk toward the kitchen, Lisa picks up the box and carries it with her.

“So,” Lisa begins, “Dean and I used to… date?”

“Yeah, well, more than that. He lived with you in Cicero and you moved here together. You were with him for about a year.” He still has that kicked-puppy expression and Alexis immediately picks up on it.

“So why don’t I remember him—or you?” Lisa asks.

“It was the accident. You hit your head pretty bad. The doctors said it was post-traumatic and retrograde amnesia. The injury made you forget things that happened before the crash,” he explains. As he talks, he stares at his hands, but when he’s done, he lifts his head to look at Lisa and then Alexis. “You might get it back,” he adds. “The older memories might come back over time.”

“But why is it that I only forgot you two? Not Matt’s death, not anything else. It’s like there’s literally a hole in my head where just you two disappeared. And why does Dean have so many cellphones? Why is there another, other cellphone? Why does he say to call you in case of an emergency? What the hell happened, Sam?” Her voice rises progressively as she talks and by the end of it, she’s standing up, her hands planted on the kitchen table and her fingers splayed on the wood. Her eyes are narrowed and her dark hair hangs down past her shoulders.

“The amnesia,” he explains gently. “I’m so sorry, but you broke up with Dean. You don’t remember that, I’m sure, but you told him to get out and so he did.” Alexis immediately notices that he’s evading the question.

“You’re lying,” she says. She doesn’t know what he’s lying about, but there’s something shifty about him. She watches as he frowns and idly scratches at lines crisscrossing his left palm.

“No,” he counters, shaking his head. “The accident messed you up pretty bad. Dean felt responsible for it. You got into a fight and threw him out and then he wouldn’t return your calls. When he did come back, you got into another fight and then drove off and—that’s when you hit the pole. He felt terrible and said that he didn’t deserve you in his life anymore.” Now, Alexis wasn’t so sure. It all sounded about right. Dean had apologized because he felt responsible, not because he had actually hit her in his car. But that still didn’t explain the cellphones or why she didn’t remember Sam.

“Then what’s this?” Lisa demands, pulling out a small cloth bag from the blue box. She sets it on the table and unravels the string. Inside, there’s what appears to be a bone, some parts of a shell, some black dust, herbs—including lavender—and another bone. It smells disgusting and Sam tries to pretend as though he doesn’t recognize it, but Alexis notices that his reaction isn’t horror or disgust. He’s too calm.

“You know what that is,” Alexis interjects.

“No, it’s—gross,” he replies, now wrinkling his nose.

“You’re lying, again,” Alexis says. Sam gives her a dubious look and she rolls her eyes. “I’m a criminal defense lawyer. I work with all sorts of shady folk and I can pick up on things.” Sam looks as though he wants to say something, so Alexis takes a step forward and crosses her arms.

“Aren’t you a little…?” he begins, but Alexis cuts him off.

“What? A woman? Black? Mixed? Weak?” She snaps them off, one after another, all the crap people have ever said to her.

“No, I was going to say young,” he replies uneasily.

“Oh,” she replies with a frown. That is true. She’s only just gotten called to the bar and she’s been working for little over a year now as a lawyer. “But you’re still lying,” she adds. She’s not willing to let it go.

“What is it?” Lisa asks, pushing the bag forward. Sam glances at them both and then sighs. He leans forward on his elbows, rubs his right hand across his face, and then pillows his forehead in his hands.

“It’s a hex bag,” he replies at last.

“Dean was trying to hex me?” Lisa shouts.

“No! It’s… Dean was really into occult stuff. It’s meant to protect you,” he replies. He then notices the pentagram necklace. “This one, too. It’s for protection.”

“Protect me from what exactly?” Lisa asks, her eyes hard.

“Just… anything. It was just general stuff, you know, like for fun. He never believed in it, I mean he was just kind of a nerd about it.”

“Dean? A nerd?” Alexis sounds incredulous. “He actually believed in this stuff, Sam. That’s some nasty shit. You don’t put animal bones in there for nothing.”

Lisa frowns. It sounds like Dean was some sort of psychopath.

“What is really going on, Sam?” Lisa pleads. “I just want to know. There’s been so much crap in my life: from moving, Matt’s death, and my accident; I just want to feel safe and be a good mother to Ben. I just want to know the truth.”

Sam looks apprehensive. He sighs and then looks around the kitchen. It’s exactly like he remembered it, sans the picture of Dean, Lisa, and Ben on a corkboard. She has a new microwave, but these are all small things. He knows Lisa and Ben, and had always liked them; that was why he had insisted that Dean stay with them even though he knew Dean wanted to know he was alive. He forced Dean into this life and now Lisa was paying the price.

“Lisa, I can’t, it’s better if you just accept that the accident was all a part of this. Everything about that accident is why Dean is gone. I know that the hex bags are kind of creepy, but you’ve just got to accept it. Dean’s gone and you can move on. Isn’t that what you want?” Sam is now digging into his palm with his nails and he’s looking at Lisa with such a sad, imploring face that she wants to say yes. But then she realizes he’s said something that triggers a reaction.

“Dean’s dead?” she asks, hesitantly.

“No—I mean, well, I guess… yeah,” Sam replies. Lisa frowns. Was he dead or not?

Lisa turns to Alexis. “Maybe… could you give us a second?” She hopes that if Alexis isn’t there, Sam will be more likely to open up. Alexis nods and then goes back to the living room. The sound of explosions and screams bleed into the kitchen. Lisa turns back to Sam.

“Comatose?” she tries.

“No, he’s really dead,” Sam replies. But there’s something more in his expression than just sadness.

Something is really fucked up.

“I need to know, Sam.” Sam hardens his gaze and then steels himself.

“This is going to sound crazy,” he begins.

“Try me.” Lisa is determined.

“That accident wasn’t just a car crash. There was no car crash. Matt was killed because they were looking for you and Ben. They kidnapped you to get to Dean. Dean couldn’t take it and—you forgot him because he wanted to keep you safe.”

“People don’t just forget, Sam,” Lisa chides. “How is that even possible?”

“Both you and Ben don’t remember Dean or I. You forgot so that you could be safe,” he replies. Lisa is growing increasingly frustrated and she’s sick of hearing all of these half-truths.

“People don’t just forget things like that, Sam! Especially not Ben and I. We both just can’t forget. There’s got to be more to this.” Sam nods.

“There is, but it’ll sound crazy.”

“All of this is crazy!” Lisa shouts.

“You were kidnapped by… by demons.”

Lisa laughs. “Demons? That’s your excuse?” She laughs again, but Sam isn’t laughing. Sam is angry that he’s let it slip and now Lisa will think he’s insane, but he couldn’t think of anything else. Lisa is too stubborn and none of his reasons would satisfy her. Apparently, this explanation isn’t good enough, either.

“That hex bag is to protect you from angels and demons,” Sam explains, pointing at the bag. “Dean made it for you. He’s probably hidden one in every room.” Sam stands up and looks around. He spots a small plant in a corner on a table. He walks over to it and pulls out the small drawer underneath. There’s a false bottom and he lifts it up to reveal another hex bag. “Dean was pretty paranoid, so he probably has another in the walls here somewhere. This is probably just to distract someone if they find it, but there will be another that can’t be removed so easily.” He walks back to the table and sets the second hex bag down. He then picks up the pentagram necklace. “This is an anti-possession necklace. It makes it so you can’t be possessed by demons.”

“Why do you know all of this?” Lisa demands, but then adds: “how is this even real?”

Sam looks mournful. “Demons, angels, vampires, monsters—they’re all real. Dean was trying to protect you from them. That’s why he didn’t return your calls and that’s why you can’t remember anything. He didn’t want you to get hurt again.”

“So some demons kidnapped me and Dean erases my memory? What is he, some kind of monster too?” At this, Sam flinches.

“No, he—he asked an angel to remove your memories of us, so that you’d never try to find us again.”

“Like this,” she points out.

“Exactly like this.”

“So what, am I in danger now that you’re here? Is something just going to kill me because you’re sitting in my kitchen?”

“No, it’s—it’s more than that. There are things he couldn’t protect you from. It’s better that you don’t remember.” He makes a move to pick up the box, but Lisa pulls it back.

“Oh no buddy, you’re not taking my memories away again. I’ve just started to figure this out. You’re batshit insane and so is Dean and I will figure out why I don’t remember.”

“I just told you. I can’t take your memories away. But you’d be better off forgetting anyhow.”

“Prove it.” Sam frowns and pulls his mouth into a grim line.

“No. I’m not bringing a monster here just to prove that they’re real.”

“Then an angel. Bring me an angel,” she demands, “if they’re even real.” She scoffs.

“Lisa, please, you’re—”

He was about to say that she was being unreasonable. But there’s nothing unreasonable about how she’s reacting. In fact, she’s reacting in the way any sane and rational person might.

“I don’t want to bring something here because I don’t want to put you in danger and it would. Dean and I hunt these things. We were raised to it and we’ve been going after all sorts of monsters since we were kids.” He pauses and then remembers the rug. “Did you ever notice some kind of weird symbol under your rug at the front door?” Sam asks. Lisa gives him an undecipherable look, but doesn’t reply. Sam stands up and grabs a pen from the counter. He takes one of the pieces of paper in the box, flips it over and begins drawing a devil’s trap. As he draws the symbols around the trap, Lisa’s eyes widen.

“Those symbols,” she says slowly. “That, yeah, it was under my rug. It took me ages to clean it off. It’s still kind of there. And those symbols around it… I remember them,” she says slowly. “I’ve seen them before. They’re all over my house in weird places. They’re drawn on the top of the trim on our doors, underneath my bed, on the walls in some places. What are they?”

“Wards, protection against demons. This,” he says, tapping his pen on the paper, “is a devil’s trap. If a demon gets into it, it can’t get out. They can still use their powers if they’re strong enough, but they can’t leave it unless you break the line. That gives you enough time to exorcise them.”

“Exorcise them? You mean like—The Exorcist? That’s real?”

“Kind of yeah. They possess people and use their bodies, to make them seem human. You were possessed. When Dean was exorcising the demon in you, it stabbed you in the stomach. That’s why you were in the hospital.” Sam can’t move his eyes away from his hands now. Lisa sits down.

“So that’s it? I get possessed and he leaves?” She’s seething now.

“You died, Lisa. An angel brought you back to life and took your memories so that it would never happen again.” Sam is quiet; his voice strong, but quiet. There’s a certain conviction in his eyes. “I don’t think what Dean did was right, but it worked, didn’t it? You were happy.” He states this with finality. Lisa nods numbly.

“Why don’t I remember dying?” She asks after a long pause.

“The angel probably took that memory, too.” He cracks a smile at this.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve died quite a few times, but I only remember a handful of them. Apparently, I’ve died and they’ve taken my memories of that, too.”

“And doesn’t that just completely fuck you up?” Now Lisa is full of anger against these angels. How dare they take that from her? And how dare Dean make them do it, too?

“Yeah,” he replies.

They sit there in silence because neither of them knows what to say.

“So you’ve been fighting these things your whole life. Why?”

“We were raised to it.”

“You said that. Why would anyone raise two boys into that? I could never do that to Ben—it’s fucked up.”

“That’s what Dean thought, too. He never wanted you to get hurt.”

“It hurt you, though,” she counters.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” He shrugs. “I was angry at my dad for a long time, but I’ve forgiven him now. Do you think you could ever forgive Dean?” Lisa frowns.

“I don’t know. You said he’s dead, right?” Sam nods. “Well, I guess… there’s no sense hating a dead man.” Sam looks uncomfortable at this. “What?” she snaps. “Is he dead or not?”

“He’s in purgatory, but—he might get out.” Sam is troubled by this thought, but also, slightly hopeful. Though, the last time Dean was pulled out from the afterlife, there were strings attached. There always are.

“How?” she demands.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s even possible.” Sam doesn’t mention that the only way out is probably if God pulls Dean out himself. He doesn’t want to say any more than he has to. Lisa doesn’t pick up on this exclusion and he’s relieved.

“How do I exercise a demon?” she asks suddenly.

“I don’t think Dean would want you to know that,” Sam replies slowly.

“What? This is my decision. Tell me.” She’s fierce and demanding and Sam is tired.

“Fine. I’ll write it down. Only ever say the words if the demon is in a devil’s trap. Otherwise, you’ll probably just piss it off. But if you do exorcise them, there will be a body left over. If the human’s dead, you’ll have a dead body on your hands,” he warns her. Lisa stares at him in horror.

“If there’s a person in there, I have to,” Lisa says. There’s no backing down for her.

“Yeah,” he replies sadly. He writes down the Latin and hands her the paper. “I should get going. You have my number. Please… just… be happy.” He stands up and Lisa does too. She looks like she wants to say something else, but Sam doesn’t want to give her time to speak again. He’s exhausted and he knows that Lisa is too, but they’re both too stubborn to show it.

Lisa shows him to the door. The woman is still watching the TV and Sam can hear the sound of screams emanating from the living room. Lisa opens the door and Sam turns to leave, but at the last moment, Lisa reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. She still looks like she has more questions to ask, but Sam can tell that she doesn’t know what to ask.

Finally, she speaks. “Goodbye, Sam.”

“Goodbye, Lisa,” he replies.


End file.
